#wouldnt blame them for not reblogging day 6 tho that ones a TRIP

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 5

“What do you want me to do?”

Owed a favor | Whispered conversation | Sneaking around

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

CW: alcohol, mentioned kidnapping, mentioned potential character death, mentioned gun

Continued HERE

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Caretaker’s eyes shifted warily as they scaled the walls of the enemy base, rope burning in their hands and they hauled themself up, one after the other. This would all be for nothing if they got caught. Less than nothing. They wouldn’t be of any use to Youngest if they were captured, and that was on top of the agony they’d have to endure at the hands of Villain and the rest of their team if they were captured. So don’t get caught, Leader had reasoned. As if it were that simple. As if that weren’t the most obvious thing in the world. But Leader believed in them, and Youngest needed them, so here they were, freezing their ass off on the wind- and snow-swept window ledge of their most formidable foe, praying to God that they could plead well enough to the only person who could truly help save Youngest’s life.

They pressed their hand into the glass, using the friction and sticking frost to pull open the suspiciously unlocked window. No time to dwell on that, Caretaker supposed. They dove in through the small gap and landed into a silent forward roll across the hardwood floor, only to immediately be greeted by the sound of a glass shattering as it was dropped by shocked hands, followed by a long string of curses as the dropper of the glass stared at Caretaker with abject horror.

“Caretaker–” Spy hissed. “What in the actual fuck are–”

A soft knock at the door. “Medic? Everything alright?” Villain called.

Spy glared at Caretaker, commanding them to hide with a sharp nod that even Leader themself wouldn’t question. Caretaker looked around frantically, before spotting a lovely little wooden wardrobe. That’d do.

“Yeah, everything’s– great,” Spy yelled back, speech slurred. “Jus’… dropped the whiskey bottle. Just a little. Probably too much to drink– Imma gonna… gonna… jus’ clean this up an’ head to bed…”

The door creaked open. “You need–”

“Don’t come in!” Spy leaped over to the door and slammed it shut with their full body, back pressed into the painted wood. “I’m not decent!”

A pause. Caretaker bit their lip inside the wardrobe, cursing themself for not choosing any better hiding spot. The door couldn’t even close all the way!

“...alright then.” Villain’s voice finally came through the door, taken aback. “You’re a very strange drunk, Medic… I’ll leave you to it, just put on some clothes before you deal with the glass, yes?”

Spy groaned dramatically, as if Villain had just asked them to egg the neighbor kid’s house. “--fffffff-ine…”

“Thanks. No pity if you’re hungover tomorrow, yeah? Drink some water and get to bed.” Villain knocked on the door twice in lieu of a farewell, and footsteps could be heard creaking down on the hardwood floors, slowly getting quieter as Villain walked away.

Spy slammed open the doors of the wardrobe, very clothed and very sober. “You better have an amazing explanation for this, Caretaker,” they whispered with enough venom to knock out an elephant. They yanked Caretaker out and picked up a towel from where they had just been sitting, turning on their heels toward the broken glass. “Amazing, perfect, justifiable, and totally not insane reason for almost blowing my cover and getting the both of us killed.”

“They have Youngest,” Caretaker whispered urgently, grabbing another piece of fabric at random and following closely behind Spy. Spy didn’t even flinch as they threw their own towel widely over the glass and started collecting it all into the thick cloth.

“Okay. And?”

“That’s all you have to say?!” Caretaker hissed, soaking up the spill with what they now realized was an old t-shirt. “No ‘where?,’ no ‘are they alive?,’ no ‘how can I help save my teammate from being tortured to death?’...”

“What do you want me to do?” Spy finished placing all of the glass into the towel, then trudged to the other side of the room and threw the entire thing away. 

“Not sure if you noticed, Caretaker, but they think I work for them. And they need to continue thinking that I work for them until I can finish my directive,” Spy nudged Caretaker out of the way with their foot, kneeling down beside them and finishing the job of drying the spill themself. “And helping one of our captives escape is a wonderful way to make sure all my hard work goes straight down the toilet. Then you’ll have two captives that need saving–” They threw the now alcohol-soaked t-shirt into the hamper across the room. 

“--If they don’t put a bullet in my head right there and then.”

“I’m not asking you to save them, idiot,” Caretaker said through gritted teeth. “Just… keep an eye on them, please? You’re their medic. Maybe say they’ve had enough early if the team is torturing them, or, or keep them in the med bay for as long as possible with an unknown illness, or discredit any information they give, or misdiagnose their power so Villain underestimates them, and don’t shoot them if you have the chance to, and on that note, don't let Villain kill them. Just–...” They waved their hands around in front of them frantically, pleading. 

“Do something. Don’t just stand by and watch, and for the love of God, don’t join in. Please.”

Spy stared at Caretaker for a long time, face excruciatingly unreadable. “I acknowledge your request for me to help Youngest. Now get the fuck out.” Spy grabbed the collar of Caretaker's shirt and shoved them toward the open window. 

“Is that a yes?”

Spy spun Caretaker around to unequivocally ask if they were purposefully trying to kill them, only to find Caretaker's hopelessly worried puppy-dog eyes staring back at them. Always with the puppy-dog eyes. They threw their head back with a groan, fingers pinching the bridge of their nose.

“That’s an ‘I’ll do what I can without compromising my mission.’” Spy stated. “Now leave. I can’t have you getting hurt too.”

Caretaker let out a sigh of relief as they leaped up onto the window ledge. They crouched down to fiddle with the rope. “Thank you, Spy. Seriously, it means a lot." Caretaker stared down into the frozen white dust-filled abyss below them. "See you later. I missed you.”

Spy’s shoulders sagged a little. “I missed you too. Send my regards to the team.”

“Will do.” Caretaker saluted to Spy. They pulled on their repelling rope to make sure it was secure, and they were just about to swing back out, when–

“Oh, and Caretaker?” Spy called out from behind them. 

“Ye–” Caretaker turned around, but before they could react, Spy reached up and yanked their head downward by the back of the neck, desperately shoving their lips onto theirs. Caretaker almost pulled back from the shock and force of it, only before fully closing their eyes and leaning down harder into the kiss. Caretaker's breath shuddered hot on Spy’s face as their hand grasped at the back of Spy’s head, the other pulling them in tighter from the spot it found nestled in the arch of their back, holding Spy ever closer so the moment never had to end. 

Spy finally pulled back and gazed into Caretaker’s eyes, breathless. “Don’t get caught.”

“I could say the same to you,” Caretaker chuckled lowly. “Please.”

Spy scoffed and rolled their eyes, pushing Caretaker's chest lightly. “I won’t.”

Caretaker stood and backed up to the very edge of the ledge, grinning from ear to ear. “See you on the other side, Spy.” They grabbed the remaining slack of their rope and vaulted backward off the edge of the windowsill, pumping their fists and grinning like a 5-year-old at a birthday party. 

“That we will,” Spy muttered. They poured themself another glass of whiskey, a real one this time, as they gazed at the spot where Caretaker disappeared.

“One way or the other…”

@whumptember